How Far Are You Willing to Go?
by DarkWriter00
Summary: Post-Anime. The Dollars go international. Jenna decided to check out the website upon a friend's suggestion. Despite the weird name, she discovers how genuinely friendly the online community is. Full summary inside. /This should have canon pairings/
1. Prologue: On the Run

**Disclaimer: Welcome to the Permanent Disclaimer. Please make your insertion, followed by this silliness. Sign now? **

**Of course, I don't own Durarara. I have no affiliations to the wonderful creator of the manga personally either. The same goes toward the studio that did the _crazy-awesome_ anime adaptation. I only own my original characters, and the ideas I have for this story. I don't have a lot of money really, so I don't believe any efforts to sue me would amount to much of anything. **

**Author Notes: I first of all would like to say that it's been some years since the last time I attempted to upload one of my stories onto this site. (Probably around 2005 or 2006 was the last time I updated _anything_ on my account.) By sometime soon, after I've uploaded this, my profile page should be updated as to what happened back then. (Better off that way, or else I'd end up rambling about it!)**

**It's been a long time, and my writing has improved some along the way, so I hope that the webmasters and moderators of this site will let this story stay on here. I put a lot of time into writing my stories, and I get very perfectionist-like on them! Although I don't see any reason why this would get removed, for I've been a little more perfectionist than how I was so long ago… **

**One more thing, readers; I can't say I've got everything planned out as I'm writing and developing the plot. It's something for the both of us to take a journey to discover. 8D This new OC is a character so far, I promise, is interesting, and I hope to develop her well and make this story so good and exciting that I'd want to do a very intense sequel for it. That's my goal. **

Summary: Post-Anime. The Dollars go international. (Mikado didn't see why not.) Jenna decided to check out the website upon a friend's suggestion. Despite the weird name, she discovers how genuinely friendly the online community is. In finding the user-friendly chatroom, she finds it a good escape from the struggles that come with of living her semi-mundane life from time to time.

Izaya Orihara, who had recently left Ikebukuro, decided to go to America on a mission only Namie Yagiri knows about. He didn't exactly choose to lay low from the rest of the world—with his plan to start an international war to wake up Celty Stuluson's head. In search of discovering and meeting new humans to play with on the other side of the planet, checking the Dollars would be the first of places to look.

Their paths crossed. Jenna, in her own words, doesn't mind explaining what happened.

Meanwhile in Ikebukuro, does the Tokyo district truly fare well during the information broker's absence?

**How Far Are You Willing to Go?**

Prologue: On the Run

From what had been a risky and exhilarating mission of personal importance, I was shown that everything we had arranged was shattering to pieces. I realized this as I was running—as fast as my legs could move! It was more of a crucial instinct than a thought process to just get the hell away from him. I felt I couldn't be around that conniving _**rotten**_ bastard anymore, not even for one more second. The revealing betrayal and horror I felt was more than I could stand.

I had heard plenty enough. It sent my mind reeling. What was supposed to be smooth sailing had turned into a most hideous and sporadic storm the moment he spilled his twisted intentions to me.

A familiar roar of a voice and a flying vending machine soon flew over us. My eyes widened to their maximum as my heart was racing in my chest. Holy shit-Shizuo! The timing was almost convenient, as I had started to move away from the other man who had tried to take hold of my arm. While the two went at each other similar to what I had seen previously, my entire body pumped itself full of adrenaline and _took off_.

I had been taken for a ride, and there was nothing I detected to suspect him for being so sick, twisted, _insane_! What he showed me, all the things he just _said_—those words from earlier I heard were repeating in my head. It echoed in there, as I felt caught in a climax of a horror-suspense movie. In getting in and out of trouble in my lifetime, I've never been in anything going so terribly wrong, so fast.

This and more to be scared about! I was on my own in a foreign country I was not familiar with. I wasn't very familiar with the Japanese language either. Guess who had started to teach me, little by little. That's right; it would be none other than the devious, manipulating _creep_ I kept running from. What a guy-to cause me to feel a dose of instant panic like this.

Oh, and here's another fact: He knew Tokyo a whole lot better than I did. Those two things hit me like two sudden, hard jabs to my stomach. _Of fucking course he does_, I cursed to myself, my mind in a frenzied state of disbelief and fear. I couldn't really think—my brain hadn't quite caught up past the dust cloud the rest of me left behind. I only knew that _staying_ around him (temporarily or permanently) was out of the question. This overwhelming surge of emotion screamed that loud and clear. I would have to be brain-dead otherwise!

I couldn't be entrapped into a life revolving around madness and violence as a plaything in his eyes. _**Hell no**_—I was my own free person! I had my own life and loved ones, and there was no way I was going to let my mom and my friends back home get mixed up in that. I couldn't do that to certain friends I made here in Ikebukuro either.

My chances of escaping _for good_ were still slim though. I couldn't hide for long, and I had no clear direction to where I was going—only far, _**far**_ away from the danger. I most certainly did not know anyone who could protect me that the sociopath didn't know about. It was through him that I met Celty and Shizuo, those who had the agility and skills to catch up to him. They had a better chance than the cops ever would.

I ran endlessly past two blocks across a crosswalk while avoiding to collide into anyone, and then through a narrow space between two office buildings. Over and over I was mentally kicking myself for being taken advantage of—even when I did not see it coming. I had been as cautious as I felt I had to be, but that whole time he had hidden a side that was so despicable and revoltingly terrible. Knowing that he hid away his darkest secrets so well for a long time had to be the scariest thing of all.

I so badly wished I had the money to take a plane back home _now_. I had what I needed in order to get Mr. Trigger Happy Yakuza Thug brought to justice. I could prove to my friend in spirit and myself on how much I deeply cared for him, that it wasn't too late... I'd have to scrape all the travel expenses on my own from here, no thanks to _Izaya Orihara_.

I ran pretty far, and hadn't heard that playful tone of voice behind me. I hadn't heard much of anything other than the very distant noise of things crashing and breaking, as well as the panicky cries and screams from scattering pedestrians. It was all rising over the normalcy that went on in any other city.

I must have lost them by now, once I finished zigzagging through an alleyway that had nothing but trash and a few cats scurrying out of my way. Shizuo back there looked really pissed, and he terrified me when he got like that. Three times have I seen him so out of control, and I _still_ couldn't believe someone like him actually existed. It's good to know that gene pool he emerged from didn't design him to be _always_ so full of rage.

My lungs were starting to burn from doing more than I usually did during a sprint. Lately, when first coming to Ikebukuro I've been doing quite a bit of running around, and my body was barely adjusting to craziness that included Izaya and the blonde Japanese Superman, A.K.A. Shizuo Heiwajima.

Eventually I stopped my blind panic run, and looked behind me. There was no one. I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to have gotten a good amount of distance from Izaya—for now.

Yet I was proven wrong as I was turning around. He must have taken a _really_ epic parkour route to spot me because there he was, standing five feet or so away. I froze and held my breath. I had an icy feeling down my spine at seeing him beam in sinister delight.

"You can't possibly believe you can get rid of me that easy, Jenna-chan," he breathed. He wagged his finger at me. "You're a smart person, so you should have figured it out in the middle of telling you almost _everything_..." The slightly winded version of his often playful, teasing affections toward me I started to see in a different light now. His auburn eyes took on a glinted predatory look as he grinned at me so wickedly. He caught his breath, chuckled, and added, "Denying your curiosity at this point would make you look pathetic, my friend. And taking off like that was so sudden, so unlike you. Tell me, does the truth scare you that badly?"

The way he said "friend" was, of course, a fucking _joke_ to him at my expense. I knew that now. I must have been _soooo_ entertaining for him the _whole damn year_ we've known each other. Realizing this made my stomach tighten. I was doing all I could to hold back any tears—not wanting to appear or feel any weaker than I already was.

A glare and a slight rise in my voice came automatically. I could barely control myself, being so upset—and it was scaring the crap out of me! "Like I'd have a better reaction to a _sociopath_ who keeps a person's head in a big jar for shits and giggles! And you know what? I don't thi-"

Izaya took a few quick steps forward to put a finger to my lips, before I could get out anything else. He lowered his voice, sounding semi-serious as that smirk was shrinking down to a half smirk. "You might want to be careful, Jenna-chan. Spouting that off out here might get you killed... We'll have to talk more on this later-once I'm done with Shizu-chan."

I didn't get to follow through with my sudden jolt of an impulse to shove him away. At about a split second later, I heard hard and fast running on the street as the blonde in the bartender's attire came around the corner, still looking pissed as hell. Shizuo was about to swing that stop sign he was holding effortlessly above his head. "_IZAYAAAA_!"

I immediately dropped down from where I was standing, and inwardly begged for Shizuo to only hit Izaya, and not me. I mean, I knew I got to be such a hard-head at times when it came to following others' advice—but Shizuo had to know I learned my lesson putting _any_ trust in Izaya.

_Right_?

**(Hey, why not have a bit of Closing A/N?) I loved how this turned out. It's so unlike any other beginning I've done in any story of mine. 8D **


	2. Chapter 1: An Introduction of Sorts

**A/N: Enjoy this next chapter. Jenna's going to be the only character I'll do first person with, by the way. To me it just suits her better to do first person than third person.**

**Apologies in advance for slow updates! ^^; I already mentioned my perfectionism. I'm also a very busy person. Working at my bookshop, so much awesome stuff to read (ask in a comment and I'll gladly reply with what I'm currently reading), and stuff I do on and offline that are time consuming.**

Chapter 1: An Introduction of Sorts

Let's say that I have a remote for all this, a TV or DVD player remote. Let's also say that I just hit the pause button. Can't have everything going on all at once. Augh, no, especially not with how the way things are going for me now.

So. What's going on, you may wonder. You wouldn't really be here if you didn't have that question, and more. I gotta ask, why do you even want to know? Is it curiosity? Concern? Or are you another lunatic set on giving me _more_ than enough to stress about?

Not that I mind meeting someone new, in general. I get along with most people, with the exception of a few certain _kinds_ of people. Pushy, disrespectful for no reason, and/or extremely **_creepy_** people would fit into there specifically. This is a crazy, crazy world we're living in. It never hurts to be extra cautious these days!

Wait, maybe I should just tell it from the very beginning as to how I got myself into such a mess. To explain how my simple, fun, somewhat adventurous life got turned upside down and twisted inside out by the aforementioned sociopath—that's going to take a while.

First off, to let you know: I'm not a total airhead. I'm not your typical Barbie doll _girly girl_ who stumbles along in life. That doesn't mean I'm exactly a tomboy either. I don't like getting into fights or starting gang wars, doing or selling drugs, none of that stuff. I'm somewhere in between... I can't summarize myself very good, so all will have to be laid out bit by bit as I go along. It's probably for the best, since this is _quite a tale_.

Second of all: This isn't just about those two guys I mentioned—Shizuo and Izaya, A.K.A. Japanese Superman and Devil Incarnate Sociopath—and yours truly. This includes people I care about very much (I'm undecided about Shizuo at this point), in both Japan and in America. A lot of my connections to my friends, big and small, I believe are just as important.

Well, anyway...my name? It's Jenna. Jenna Sylvia Stockton. I have lived most of my life in Maryland. Southern Maryland, to be exact, and my hometown is in a suburbia in the countryside. It's almost in the boonies, because going to the beach is never too far by car.

Not much exciting stuff happens over there. Nothing I'd call exciting anyway—such as large amusement parks and rock concerts. Even a place to get together to do something that's much safer, like playing board games—that unfortunately doesn't occur there either! Why? Because there are so few board gamers around there. If I were far less busy, I'd be _happy_ to start a group.

Parkouring would be a recent new addition to my flavor of excitement, by the way. None of the above ever exists in St. Leonard. It's sad, but true. (I'm your dream, make you real. I'm your eyes when you must steal. I'm your pain when you can't feel—sad but true! …Sorry, couldn't resist. Old school Metallica for the win.)

Well, _sure_, there are the skateboarders and rollerbladers, but to _parkour_ requires only your limbs and the ability to think on how not to fall to your death, all at the same time. To move from roof to roof, wall-to-wall, rail to rail, or any combination of those things-there's not enough buildings that are close together to _do so_ in St. Leonard. Very little parkour can be done there. The Prince from the Prince of Persia video games, who's running along the walls and leaping from great heights from one surface to another? _That's_ parkouring. (How I came to enjoy parkouring from a mentioned former friend who really _**wasn't**_ my friend is a part I'll have to go into later on. Believe me, I intend to not go so ahead in my telling of a bunch of stuff that's happened.)

Anyway, to go and do fun things like that, you'd have to leave Calvert County altogether. It sucks a bit, considering on how the gas prices keep going up more than down…

There you have it. I don't feel a want or need to go on about all the dull details. Let's _not_ put anyone to sleep. No matter how nice it would be, I can't sleep all the way through my serious, life threatening problems. Unfortunately, it's just not how the real world works.

To start, I'd have to say the very origin of where I had encounters with Izaya Orihara started in an online chatroom.

Ooooh, so typical of a scenario! The stalking sexual predator finds his prey on the World Wide Web. Through typing the words into the textbox, he charms some hopeless dolt and has her convinced he's her Prince Charming. And the two arrange a place and time to meet.

We all know what happens after that. The creep eventually kidnaps the gullible girl and does as he pleases. She in return either dies or gets scarred for life in the end.

Tch. Like _that_ would happen to me. To fall for such thing as any sort of relationship beyond friendship online wouldn't mean a long story. It wouldn't mean me going in _way over_ my head after about a year of having a sort of friendship with Izaya.

I'm sorry if that sounded a little bitchy. I also may have sounded bitterly sarcastic. I just can't picture myself having an online relationship that goes beyond friends. It's only words and mind fantasies that for the most part don't become a reality—or the type of reality we ladies would like it to be. I've known well enough that it's _never_ that simple.

How my getting to know Izaya started wasn't at all like the scenario I described. The people I chat with online who I consider cool would have the smarts to _avoid_ such places that attract sex predators, stalkers, or just people in general who are weird and/or bad news.

The website an instant messenger friend from Colorado gave me a link to wasn't a _cybering_ kind of site at all. It was a much more harmless and friendlier online community, called the Dollars.


End file.
